Bullets in the Boudoir
by Crimsonberry255
Summary: Barry Hatch didn't start out as a loyal servant to Reaver. The hotheaded teen needed to be broken in first if he was going to be useful. Barry/Reaver origin story. *On Hiatus for the time being*
1. Prelude

**__**_A small glimpse into the events before Chapter 1._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Prelude<em>**

_It was a cold winter in Albion. That's something I definitely remember. The rain became sleet and frost, chilling over the water with a sheet of black ice and the walkways with a slippery crunch. While I curled my body up in a tight ball against the wind, I saw the warm lights of the castle peak of from the fog in the distance. They did not care. Why would they? The Queen had rejoiced at the gift of a baby daughter that previous autumn, loving her in memory of the late king who had fallen in battle due to old age. I heard that they were both kind. A young prince, slightly younger than me was probably bundled up, warm and dry inside his abode._

_Some people just had all the luck didn't they? The orphanage had all but kicked me out. I had caused enough trouble for them, bringing back coin purses and soldiers in my wake. But I felt like it would be my weakness to give in to their thoughtfulness. Not that there was much of a difference between the cold halls and ragged beds inside, except for maybe cutting the wind. They would light small candles if they could afford it. We were given bread and a cider ale that was produced cheaply, for we could not afford the fresh water._

_I would not cry. Crying was for children. I could not call myself a child any longer. I had to be responsible now. I could not rely on anyone, that was for sure. It was made apparent when I was stabbed in the back by those who I thought were friends. They had led me to the guards and let me take all the punishment, while they took reward for bringing me. I looked down at my hands, a bluish tint among the fair flesh. I was too cold to even shiver. I watched the carriages pass, and stared across the river, not sure if I should wish for death._

_It seemed, for what I was taught by the mothers in the orphanage, that it would be more peaceful. It would not be an eternal struggle, here in the cold wind, my belly too empty to even complain. All of my body was numb, it seemed. Not that I could not feel the chill. I definitely could. I just did not care. My breath fogged as I breathed through the small wool blanket that I had tightly wrapped around myself. I had tried to find a spot with minimal wind, to perhaps stay until the morning light made the air slightly more bearable._

_I closed my eyes and thought of what I imagined heaven to be. I would not be hungry. I would not be thirsty. I would not need to worry about money. It would not be cold. It would not be hot. It would be perfect._

_Yes._

_Perfect._

_I was ruffled from my sleep by strong hands pulling at me. I had to clutch at my blanket to keep it from falling away, exposing my thin cloth clothes to the winter air. I shoved, trying to get away from whatever was attempting to stop my meager attempt at warmth. A couple soldiers and a man I did not recognize. He was slimy, even in the light rain. His hair was slick, facial hair oily. I shivered and muffled a whimper as I was dragged through the street, the man in tow. He was paying off one of the guards, murmuring a thanks under his breath as the twinkle of coin softly found my ears._

_I grimaced, but had no energy to protest further. I would have growled and tried to shake them away. I would have called them corrupt. But in the end, were they really doing anyone else a disservice? Cleaning the streets of me? Probably not as much as I would hope. I was led to a small hovel, pushed inside the door as it opened. I suppose it was a little warmer, a fire going in the corner. My eyes glazed over, wanting to just walk over and fall into the flames, I was so cold._

_The man nodded to the guards and they left. I sat there, rather broken on his wooden floor, shivering like a wet dog._

_" I have saved you from the rain and cold, now you are mine. I pray I will be able to get rid of you soon, perhaps for at least twice the price that you were to me. Not that you are worth it, but perhaps someone might take pity, or maybe something better, like anger, out on you," he said, smiling wickedly._

_He pulled me up by a wrist and started to lead me out of the warm room into a dimly lit one. A large, wooden door stood in front of us. I almost felt like I could move my lips now, but I still did not have the energy to speak. He unlatched the heavy door and pulled me in. It was a dry cold. I suppose that was better than the wet cold outside. I saw the heads of teenagers poke out from under heavy blankets. A couple curious eyes followed me down the small hall before I was told to get in the small cell. The small bunk was there on top of the hay that covered the grey stone. A worn, stained blanket and chewed pillow adorned it. The only other thing present was a small jug of water and a bedpan._

_It was not even a real bed. It smelled of blood and slightly of urine or vomit that had been badly washed out. Still, I found myself walking, almost crawling toward it and throwing the blanket over myself. A welcome thing. Sleep without the biting cold. I heard the cell close behind me with a metal clang and the turn of a key, but I did not care. I just coiled myself up and let slumber take me._

_I could just pretend all of it was just a nightmare._

_If the gods were kind..._

_I would wake up, someday, wouldn't I?_


	2. Chapter 1

**_A Fable 3 fanfiction. Barry/Reaver, M/M, ect._**  
><strong><em>Rated M for language and sexual talk. More warning for future chapters.<em>**

**Bullets in the Boudoir**

" Keep your eyes off of me!" I shouted at him, my cheeks flushed in annoyance and embarrassment.

It was an assumption, really. Since he had arrived, his eyes had wondered around the lineup. It always centered back to me in interest, sometimes casually dropping down to my toes and back up again, slowly . Since there were also a few lovely girls, I could only assume why. His gaze was like a pinpoint of fire directed towards me. I didn't like that stare.

He looked so smug, playing with his long cane that was probably made from an extremely expensive wood, glossed without a chip or scratch on it. His clothes had not a speck of dirt on them. Even his boots, trudging through the dirt, shined like new. No other kinds of men put that much effort into their appearance.

He smiled deeper then, the slavemaster apologizing to him profusely for my behavior. He waved him off.

" Shush. Let the lad talk a bit. What is your name, boy?" he asks, walking slowly toward me with such an air of arrogance I thought I might vomit.

I just glared back, waiting until he was closer. Indeed, he stood a couple feet from me.

" I asked you a question, my dear lad," he repeated, no sign of anger rising in his face.

The smugness wasn't leaving either. I spat at him, hitting him square in the cheek. His eyes opened, but still no anger there. He calmly smiled and took out a red and gold hankercheif, sliding it over his face, like he was expecting it.

" Go to hell!" I yelled, trying not to grin as the slavemaster rushed over to once again apologize and glare at me with about twenty lashes in his eyes.

The others watched in horror, one of the girls trembling in fright like they would be punished for my actions. They thought I had gone mad.

" Do not bother with this boy, my Lord. He is hopeless and not worth any effort. Found him stealing and mugging," the shorter and dirtier man stated.

The potential buyer seemed not to hear him, or maybe care to.

Something in this man irked me to no sense of reason. I wanted to knock him down a peg. I wanted him to stop staring at me with that cocky grin. I wanted him to show that I had gotten to him. He hit the hand of the slavemaster before it touched his shoulder with a "thwack" of his cane. The man bowed and gave him some space, rubbing the small wound.

" Nice shot, lad. What you slavers don't always understand, is that these slaves are rare gems among you. The defiant. The irrational. The fearless," he says, taking steps closer as he described me, his eyes never leaving my own.

I stared back into his dark pupils, determined to not let him intimidate me.

" They become the most loyal, most trustworthy servants you can find. Of course you have to break them in first," he said, his grin spreading.

I felt a deeper flush heat the skin of my face. I also felt my teeth clench hard against each other.

" Eventually, they are without any compare," he says, raising his cane and running it over my hair, observing the ponytail, which he seemed annoyed with.

The slavemaster was nodding and agreeing behind him. I tried to shrug him off, to which he did not mind.

" Of course, my Lord. I wish I had the hands strong enough to break him myself. He has caused so much fuss and trouble. If anyone can straighten him out, it would be you, Lord Reaver," the slavemaster gushed, glaring over at me again.

Reaver? What kind of bloody name was that? Not one for a business man. Maybe a brothel? Fucking hell.

" A redhead full of fire. You don't see that very much anymore, do you?" Reaver said mostly to himself.

The slavemaster shook his head.

" I will take him, do not worry about change," he said.

The slavemaster looked at him in exhasberation and nodded. He called to his mercenary goons and soon my feet were being ushackled from the floor.

" Are you sure none of the others interest you, my Lord?" he asks, still looking for more coin to fill his grubby hands.

Reaver shakes his head.

" No. He is worth more than all of them. None of the others seem worth my time," he says walking over to me as I struggle with the guards on the way down.

As I come face to face with him, inches apart, I notice how tall he is. He looks down on me like a rat that had been locked in the galley.

I started to form some more spit in my mouth. I didn't like how close he was, smelling spiced and musky with some sort of pricy perfume. I was about to spit into his face again when I heard the cocking of a gun at my ear. Confused, I looked down to see the barrel of an intricate gun pressed against the bottom of my chin. Reaver had brought it out and moved without me even noticing. My eyes widened a little bit, more at the prospect of his silent movement than the gun.

" Now, now, my dear boy. There will be no more spitting. Naughty habit. One must learn to swallow," he says, lips curling into a grin again.

I think he had added on the last part just to anger me. I glared at him and turned away, swallowing the spit and my pride, for the moment.

" There's a good slave. Now, do you want to behave, seeing as how fast this will be to your jaw? Imagine how long it would take me to just blow those brains out of that lovely head of yours. It would be such a shame, wouldn't it?" he whispers, and I shiver.

_ He did not seem scary before._

_ He wasn't even frowning._

_ But the ice in his voice was like death itself. _

_It was unnerving. _

_Damn unnerving._

I didn't say anything. Not remembering the question he posed.

" I will take your silence as a yes, for now," he said, sticking the gun back into his coat.

I sighed as I saw the weapon go away, still frowning. A carriage covered in red with a large golden symbol on it pulled up before us. A man hopped down to open the door for Reaver. He raised an eyebrow at me and my tattered clothes and back to his master.

" Let him be. We can clean the cloth later," Reaver says, motioning me into the vehicle.

The man nods and watches me get in, then closes the door to hop back up to the front. I hear him call the horses from outside and it began moving. It was different than a ship, and I had never been allowed to ride a horse.

I looked around the small room with my eyes. Plush seats and curtains lined the sides. A small cabinet sat next to Reaver, from which he took a bottle and glass and poured himself a dark red drink. I could smell the sting of alcohol from where I sat, across from him. I grimaced as I watched him, sitting up so regally, back completely straight. It made me purposely slouch even more.

" How old are you, my dear boy?" he asks while sipping from his glass with his perfect lips.

I didn't notice until now that he was a bit statuesque. But he was probably a pole smoker, so it didn't matter much. Of course it probably made him more cocky, knowing he was good looking. I rolled my eyes, forgetting that he had asked a question.

A swift whack on the side of my head brought me back to reality. I tried not to show that it had hurt. It did, but I more stared at him with surprise. His facial expression was showing slight promise, however. There was a flicker of annoyance in his eye. Maybe he was a performer, always acting elegant when the audience was watching, but something different behind the stage.

" Seventeen," I answered, trying to look bored.

_His grin came back again. _

_Damnit._

He leaned forward, chin on his cane, towards me.

" Good age. Might have preferred you a bit younger. Much more maluable at that time. The question is if you are a man yet," that's when some curiosity came into his expression.

I wasn't sure what he meant, since he wasn't smirking. I shrugged.

" Silent treatment I will tolerate for now, but soon you will learn to talk to me, even if it is with a snake's tongue. I had a mute servant, and she was ever so annoying," he says, smiling.

I frown at him. His hands idley tap the top of his cane with his leather fingers. I tried to see where he kept his gun, but couldn't figure it out from how he was sitting.

" Boring in bed, of course," he adds, mostly to himself, finding a speck of lint on his coat and picking it off.

I grimace, showing more annoyance than disapproval. He doesn't notice.

" Ah, we're coming up to the front gate, I believe," he says, sitting forward in his seat.

I think about trying to make them get me out, but his hands were fast. Maybe I would press the matter later. The carriage came to a halt, and the door was opened after the quick footsteps of the driver hurried over.

" After you," he said pleasantly. I stuck my nose up and got out, staring up at the large mansion.

A large marble statue of Reaver himself was in the front garden. I chuckled to myself, thinking how mad he may get if I ever accidentally broke it into pieces. I got a sharp prod from his cane toward the front door. I sighed and put my escape fantasies away for the moment.


	3. Chapter 2

**_Second chapter. Barry gets a bath. A bit of rambling on about exposition. Nothing too fun, yet._**

**_But with this sort of story, I feel like I need to fill in some gaps lol._**

**Chapter Two**

I was too busy thinking about how to run off without him drawing his gun for a second to notice how large the house was. Should I have expected anything less than a small castle? I suppose I should not have. That's just what it was. A good three stories high, a fresh coat of paint, it seemed.

The garden was modest, but he did not seem like one who liked to take midnight walks in the terrace. I looked behind me as a slight breeze picked up. A lake, crystal clear sat in front of the house, white gazebo planted right in the middle of it. I noticed a bit of the other houses in the distance, looked wealthy as well, but not nearly as much as this.

" It is rather lovely, isn't it? I like to keep the riff raff out of my area. That's why it looks so nice here," he says, coming up behind me to look at where I was gazing.

I stayed quiet, but he knew I was rather impressed. I tried hard not to show it. I would probably be eating with the dogs, anyway. Not that all this beauty would do me much good. I frowned at that thought.

" Come along, come along. I have an appointment in a bit with someone important. I won't have you spoil it by having to drag you inside, away from the bliss of nature," he says, swatting me softly on the side of the arm to urge me to follow.

I tried to hide my dumbfounded expression and obeyed, remembering to slouch as he elegantly walked next to me. A couple richly dressed ladies walked by and eyed us through the gate. Apparently it was a rather big deal, him coming home with a new slave. I found that utterly amusing, since he looked like he could go through them like a starving wolf at a royal feast.

He tipped his hat to them politely, obviously adding some strange, annoying flair to it as he bowed slightly. I instead smirked and gave them both a dirty gesture, to which they gasped and looked at Reaver in fright. He sighed, not looking as angry as I hoped, but I felt his gun insistantly prodding into my back. I glared at him for ruining my fun and started walking again.

" Excuse him, ladies! He is right off the ships! He will be the perfect gentleman in no time!" he calls to them.

They nod and smile at him like blushing brides.

" Do not worry about us, dear Reaver. We know he is in the best of hands. Of course, we would be lying if we told you we would not take his place," said the more pretty of the two.

They were still dressed like whores with hair as large as Reaver's estate.

_ Ugh._

" Ladies, you flatter me. I trust I will see you lovely ladies at my small soiree later this week?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

The both nod and giggle in excitement. I think he even gives them a sly wink before he started poking me, seemingly with the intent to break my back. He maintained his composure until we had gone through the large, polished wooden door. As quick as the doors were closed, I was on the floor, my face aching. Was that the warm feeling of blood forming in my mouth. It took me a second to get my bearings. I felt like I had been hit by a speeding cart.

I slowed down my breathing, not caring for the blood dripping out of my lips. He had taken his coat off, his gun in a holster at his side. His cane was against one of the plush leather chairs. I glared back up at him. He gave me a very cold stare. He didn't need to frown to portray the amount of anger he was giving me. It was all in his eyes and stature. I tried not to shiver again, defiantly showing him that he did not scare me.

" One of the very first rules I will ever make you obey, is to not insult my guests or future guests. I do enjoy entertaining them. They also entertain me. My reputation is not to be extinguished by the likes of someone like you. Every time you persecute any of my guests, you will find I persecute you. It will hurt more and more every time. If you must, at least find your anger at the harsh callings of life directed at me, instead. That, I can handle. They are fragile little things that break under a careless hand. Much like you could. Are we clear? Or do I need to demonstrate again?" he asked, looming over me, more terrifiying than any slaver could ever be.

I did not nod right away. He pulled me up from the floor with ease by my ragged shirt, my dirty, cold feet lifting off the floor to be eye to eye with him. He was bloody strong for a man of his frame. I found my wide eyes looking into his, trying not to betray my fear. But I swallowed and nodded, exchanging my pride for what seemed like my life. He closes his eyes and nods, setting me down gently onto the tile floor.

" Being this close to you, I notice how ridiculously filthy the slavers allow you to become. You are to be bathed...thoroughly before you will be seen in my presence again," he says, taking off the gloves he used to touch me.

He yells to another servant, a rather handsome man with fair hair, who comes over with a bubbling glass of some sort of alcohol. Reaver takes the refreshment from him with a tired sigh.

" I would see him cleaned up. No skimping on the toes and fingernails. We will need to adjust that matted hair while we are at it. Give it a trim for me. Thank you, Hemming," he says, not even glancing back at me as he walks briskly into a side room and shuts the door.

" Come along, then," Hemming says, raising his brows.

I decide that it wouldn't be too bad getting a bath. The best I usually got was being drenched in cold water with a large water pump. He refused to touch me, but made sure that I was not wondering as we walked the opposite way of Reaver's study. The elaborately decored walls and plush seats were not the only things of vanity. Large paintings of Reaver himself adorned the walls. Some of them made my face contort in maybe humor or disgust. I noticed a small sound behind me.

One of the servants was cleaning up my dirty footprints as I walked, scrubbing furiously with damp cloth to make the floor shine again. I sighed, knowing I was mucking up the place. Hemming led me through numerous doors, seeming to make sure I wasn't stepping on carpet. I frowed at all the indulgent items around the mansion as we went. Eventually we came to the last door, and he pushed it open, inside was the largest bath I had ever seen.

It had to be able to fit at least ten people in there easily. That made me feel a little uneasy, still wondering what I was supposed to do here.

" Strip those horrid clothes off, please. Put them in this basket here. We will burn them, later," Hemming remarked, holding the container out.

I raised a brow.

" I can't just bathe on my own?" I asked, glaring at him.

He shook his head.

" I doubt you know how to clean yourself thoroughly or correctly. I was sent with you to make sure it was done right. Now take those clothes off, or I will have to interrupt Reaver. He doesn't like being interrupted," he said, insistently holding the basket out again.

I rolled my eyes and took my tattered shirt off, as well as my worn trousers. They were at my knees, anyway. I stood there in my undergarments after throwing them in. He merely stood there still.

" What?" I asked.

" Your smallclothes are also filthy," he said, chuckling.

I stared back, scoffing and taking them off, blushing. I wasn't very happy with this predicament, so far. He nodded and went to set the basket aside. I stood there, arms crossed, feeling exposed to this stranger. He didn't seem to pay me much mind.

" Before you go anywhere near that bath, you need to shower off. Over there," he says, directing me over to a nozzle on the wall.

I walk over, grateful for the distraction, and try to find whatever might turn it on. He sighs, knowing I don't know how to operate it, and turns a small lever. The water comes rushing out, cold.

" Wait for a bit, it should be warmer soon. I put the fire on," he says, watching me.

I try to ignore his gaze and step into the water. It was a bit cold at first, but eventually warmed up like he promised. I had forgotten what it was like to be clean. The dirt and dust was running off of me to the floor. Hemming was keeping rather far away for the moment, going into the corner. I ignored him and closed my eyes, letting the water wash the filth away.

_I could get used to this. _

_Well, as long as I wasn't being whored out. _

Hemming came over, interrupting the nice flow of water. I glared over at him. He smiled.

" You are clean enough to go into the bath now," he says, pushing me with a bare hand towards it.

I tried to act like I didn't care, but part of me was aching to try that water. I slowly went down the steps, and almost sighed at the feeling of the warm water. It smelled a bit of spices. I wasn't surprised. I ignored it and dunked my head underwater. It was rather heavenly. I almost didn't want to come back up. I lost my breath and my head emerged from the water, and I waded over to the small sitting step.

It was then that I noticed that Hemming was stepping into the bath as well, cloth, brush, and bottles in hand. He had a towel on, thankfully.

" What are you doing? Can't I just do this myself? Here, I can use that stuff," I said.

He rolled his eyes and came closer. It wasn't like I wasn't used to being in the presence of naked men. But I wasn't used to such clean, handsome men being much too close to me. I flushed in annoyance as he came over and smiled, pouring some sort of liquid soap or oil over my head. I clutched my eyes shut, trying to reach out to push him away.

" Oh, don't be like that. You'll be whipped if you're not clean enough. I've done this many times, just relax," he says, placing his hands on my head and lathering the soap.

I tried to protest, but eventually figured out he was quite skilled with his hands. Nobody had ever washed my hair before. It was quite possibly one of the most amazing things that I could think I experienced. I couldn't help but let my head fall back to let him gain better access to it. I could feel the dirt being unmatted from my hair, the sweet smell filling the air.

He gently patted my head, pushing me under the water to soak out the soap. I obliged, letting the dirt float away. My hair had never felt like this. I was actually...clean. He then poured some oil onto my head and massaged that in as well.

" We're leaving that in while we get the rest of you," he says, pushing a washing cloth to my back and scrubbing with soap.

As I got over the awkwardness of my nude body, I found I was enjoying myself. He was obviously good at what he did. This got me thinking about what I was doing here again.

" Can I ask you a question?" I said, and he nodded behind me.

" You may," he answers, rather intent on his work of getting me clean.

" Is this...a brothel?" I ask, not sure how he might respond.

I tried to keep the nervousness out of my voice. He starts to laugh, turning me around to wash my chest, which felt good enough to make me flush. I kept my eyes averted, trying to focus on something else.

" It's not, but it may as well be. Reaver is very...interesting in that way. He has parties, takes many lovers. It is not uncommon in this house," Hemming says, sliding the cloth over my arms.

I think about it for a moment, grimacing.

" What will I do here?" I asked, trying to figure out this man, and why he laughed so much at my questions.

He smiled.

" That is for Reaver to decide. I believe he wanted to make you a bit of a protege. He seems to have a fondness for you," he says, sighing a little bit, a bit of disappointment.

I nod, not sure what on earth Reaver was really about.

_Fancy parties?_

_Large mansion?_

_Obvious social dominance?_

_What was he exactly?_

I decided that I would have to find out. After this nice bath, of course.


	4. Chapter 3

_**Barry gets into some trouble with the other employees.**_

**Chapter 3**

After my body was scrubbed clean as if I would spread disease, I had to admit that I felt a bit better. I never knew that the dirt would be coming out from under my fingernails.

_They were supposed to be white all the time, right?_

Hemming had sat me down on a small stool and taken out some sharp metal scissors. He delicately evened out my hair, and I watched a large amount of my red locks fall to the floor beneath me. After he was done, he pulled my hair back into a short ponytail and tied a gold ribbon over it into a bow. I was thinking that I would remove the sodding ribbon eventually when nobody was looking, and I let a small smile creep onto my face at that.

He made me dry off as one of the other servants came in to give me a new outfit. I was grateful for a fresh set of underclothes, and I had to admit that for being a set of nicer attire, they were not uncomfortable. A crisp, white, button-down shirt with puffing sleeves adorned my chest. There were black pants that were rather flexible, so I could move around without any trouble. I was also given a belt, gold and red, to my amusement. There were also sturdy black boots that fit me just right.

_Did he keep clothes of all sizes in the house for every kind of stature?_

I frowned as part of me really did not want to know.

"After he is done talking business with the Duke, you will present yourself to Reaver," Hemming remarked as we walked back out of the bathing area and into the kitchen.

A couple servants were working, the lovely aroma of food and wine greeting me. My mouth began to water of its own accord. I had never smelled something so delicious. With the slave master, it was stale bread and a rancid ale. I usually had found myself throwing it back up during the night on the ships and in the small hovels we resided in.

"I was told to give you some food, seeing as you resemble a skeleton," Hemming said, nodding toward one of the servant girls.

I nodded in a bit of a trance, unable to ignore the sights and smells of the kitchen. I noticed two boys around my age in the corner, staring me down. I was not sure what I sensed in their gaze, yet. I noticed that they were dressed in browns, and their belts were merely of leather. Nothing like what I had been outfitted in. I found that curious.

_Was I somehow a favorite?_

I grimaced at the thought. I had already gone out of my way to be maddening. I hoped it was not like some little game to Reaver, enjoying the struggles. The boys whispered among themselves, chuckling a bit every once in a while. I decided to ignore them, for the moment. My stomach was rumbling in hunger. Part of me had learned to overlook the ache while being a thief on the streets and a slave in the market. I was not allowed to concern myself with it, because it would have made me helpless.

I found myself starting to become glossy-eyed as Hemming pulled a chair out for me at one of the glossy wooden tables. I smoothed my hair back, finding that it was rather soft. I had not remembered the last time my hair had felt like that. When my fingers came away, there was no dirt, just a slight smell of soap. The servant girl set down a goblet and plate. She poured me some red wine, to which I could hardly resist letting my eyes grow wide. A perfect piece of bread was also put on my plate, larger than anything I had ever remembered getting. I could only really sit and stare at it, wondering if I had fallen asleep and this was all just some dream that would end soon.

She came back with a steaming bowl of soup, smelling of some sort of wine and onions. I looked down at the brown broth, littered with pieces of meat and potatoes and melted cheese. I looked at Hemming with a raised eyebrow, trying not to look ridiculously hungry. He looked back with an amused expression.

"Yes, you may eat. We need to get a flush back on your cheeks and some muscle on your bones. If you do not find it satisfactory, we could always skip lunch," he mused, teasing me.

I shook my head violently and proceeded to take a spoonful of soup and shove it into my mouth. Then another. Then my teeth tore into some bread. I would wash it down with the smooth wine every so often. I felt like a ravenous animal that had not eaten for months. I felt my body warm up, and the unfamiliar feeling of my belly being filled. It was possibly the best thing I had experienced in my lifetime. It was harder to steal food on the streets than money, and none of the places I wanted to eat would admit me, saying I was never clean or dressed elegantly enough.

It was bliss as I watched the bowl and goblet empty. I found myself picking at the small crumbs left behind from the bread. Then, I merely sat there, a bit dumbfounded at what I had just experienced.

_I was full._  
><em>There was no pain.<em>

My body was instead tingling in pleasure, and I felt perhaps ready for a long nap. I was clean and well fed, and now all I wanted to do was sleep. I looked over to Hemming and could not help but smile at him, to which he returned, chuckling a bit.

"T-thank you. Um- f-for being kind, I mean," I said softly, swallowing some pride, looking away.

I admitted that even though he was not the usual company that I would wish for, he was really quite good natured towards me. Especially since I knew that I was being a bothersome handful.

"No need to thank me. I am here for Reaver. He gives me my orders. He teaches me. I would thank him, if I were you," he uttered.

I tried not to frown and seem ungrateful. But I could not agree with him. Reaver was not here handing me my food. He was not the one who bathed me and cut my hair. I suppose he was the one who gave me my new clothes. I sighed, not knowing what to think about him. Despite Hemming s words, I could not shake the fact that I just did not like the man. He made me grimace and want to gag with the way he talked and looked at me.

"You look rather tired," Hemming remarked, and I found myself nodding.

"They did not let us sleep much. Even when we did, it was on stone or maybe some hay," I said, stretching my arms above me like a cat and letting a sigh of contentment escape my lips.

"I will show you to your sleeping quarters, then," he said, motioning for the servant girl to clean the table.

I got up, trying not to yawn at how I was actually acknowledging my body s needs. The boys proceeded to whisper and glare at me as I left. I shot them a scowl and walked out behind Hemming. We went back towards the bathing room, but past it this time. Hemming pushed open another door, leading into a rather large room with double-sized beds lined up neatly against each wall. To no surprise, they were decorated in red, gold and white bed sheets. Each one had a small wooden table next to it and a small lantern.

Hemming lead me to the back of the room and gestured to the bed there.

"How can you possibly know everything that I want?" I asked, really rather curious if this man could read my mind.

"It is not me. I have been trained to greet the new servants in this house by Reaver. He has taught me all I know. You do realize you are not the first slave to come here, right? We have been through this many times," he stated, shaking his head at me and smirking.

I nodded, a small smile creeping onto my face.

"How long will I be allowed to sleep today?" I asked.

"I have been told to let you slumber as long as you need to. Reaver knows that you have probably never had proper sleep. He wants you healthy and less irritable. It is my job to agree," he says, walking out of the room, leaving me there to stare at my new bed.

I placed a hand there, pushing down. It was soft, and the sheets fresh and smooth. I sat down and unlaced my shoes, pushing them under the bed. I pulled the shirt over my head and placed it on the small nightstand as I crawled into the bed. The sheets were cold and inviting. I had never imagined being able to sleep in a bed like this one. As I set my body down, the mattress beneath me gave just the right amount, and I sighed in pleasure. I pulled the covers up to my chin and curled up on my side, finding myself almost instantly passing out.

I do not believe I dreamt much, for my mind and body were so tired. It was nothing but deep, black slumber. I awoke to whispers and giggling near me. I kept my eyes closed, trying to figure out who was speaking.

"I bet he ll dress him up like a little doll. Do you see those boots? Madness! Look at these pieces of ass! We ve been here for years, and never has he given us anything that nice!"

Even though they had been hushed in the kitchen. I was pretty sure that it was the two teens that I had seen in the corner, talking about me. I tried not to frown, wondering what else they may say when they believed I was asleep.

"I wonder if he s fucked him yet?"

"Naw, he likes to play with his food, first."

My fists clenched under the covers slowly, my face growing warm. I didn t think I would be able to fake being asleep for much longer.

"So, we could steal his boots and throw them into the river. He would think he s retaliating more, right? Those were the good ones from the Bowerstone shop. I bet he d be mad."

"Better yet, let's throw it all into the river."

There was malicious laughter after that. My patience was slowly wearing thin. I was listening to what side of the room they were on so that I could perhaps give them a start.

"Doesn t the blighter have enough orgies as it is? Does he really need a lanky little ginger's ass? He s such a poof."

_That was it._

_Fuck those two._

I flew out of my covers, running toward the one that had remarked last, throwing him to the ground in a heated rage.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" I snarled, pressing the boy down under me.

He laughed.

"Well, at least I m not Reaver's little fag. You do know that s the reason you're here, right? He's going to fuck your ass and you're gonna like it. You really have that catcher look to you. Pretty little face with such pouting lips. They'd be good to suck cock with, I'm sure," he snickered, not seeming to be intimidated.

I slammed his head down on the ground and pulled back my arm. I found my fist colliding with his face over and over, trying to shut him up. He struggled under me, but I found myself too stubborn to stop. My face was hot with embarrassment. I could feel his friend pulling at me, socking me in the face and kicking my back.

_I don't give a damn._

_I wanted this boy to suffer for what he dared to say._

Blood oozed from his lip and from his nose, sliding onto my fists as I kept pounding into that annoying mug. He was clawing at me with sharp nails, leaving trails of bloody gashes on my arms, clambering to get free of my abuse. My teeth were gritted, fists balled tight in rage.

"Take it back! Take it fucking back!" I screamed as the other boy started yelling for help.

The boy beneath me was no longer smirking. Tears flowed from his eyes, snot mixing with blood, dripping down his face. He started to plead with me in small gasps. But he was still so smug. I had to teach him what it was like to mess with me. On the streets and in the slave quarters, you would be bent over and pounded like a whore if you did not know how to defend yourself.

_I was no whore._

I heard some yelling from around me, but I paid it no mind, intent on giving him bruises that would remind him of me. A sharp pain in my head brought me back to reality. My hair was being pulled, and I was being roughly lifted off of the boy. I growled as I was taken straight off the ground, and I reached out my foot to nail the boy in the groin before I was pulled across the room. I struggled as the person led me by the hair out of the quarters, my eyes watching the horrified expressions on the servant s faces as I passed.

_I must have had blood on my face or something._

My scalp felt like it was going to be pulled clean off, but eventually the pain ended and I was thrown onto the ground. A door shut. I kneeled on the floor, breathing hard and grinning. I think I had gotten my point across. My chin was raised up to find the narrowed eyes of Reaver. He stared me down, making me almost suddenly regret my actions. There were promises of pain in those eyes. He was certainly not amused.

I smirked at him. He glared harder at that and pushed my face away, getting off of his knees.

"I was seeing the Duke out the door, which was very important to reputation, I might add, when I heard screaming. It gave him a bit of a fright. I do know you are a handful, but did you really need to assault one of my other boys? I hate looking at ruined faces when they bring me my tea," he said, smacking my back with his cane.

I sharply gasped, cringing at the sting that buzzed down my spine. But I refused to whimper in pain. He seemed to know exactly where to hit to make it hurt.

_Damn that man._

"Fuck you," I said, not expecting him to understand.

Of course it looked like I had started it. There was no reason to tell him that I flew off the handle because of some insulting words. He sighed, smacking me again. This time it was harder, and a small cry made its way out of my lips.

"I appreciate your stubborn nature, to an extent. But once it goes that far, I have to intervene. You will not do that again, or I will give you a world of pain. I think you understand that I am capable of such a thing. You would beg to die, I assure you. Now. Let s get that blood cleaned off and get you dressed again. You are a mess, Barry," he said, sitting down and rubbing his temples.

Looking up, I noticed that his hat was not adorning his raven-colored hair. Instead the shining locks framed his face perfectly, curling at the tips.

_Wait._

_Had he said my name?_

I stood up, adjusting my pants, which were haphazardly pushed around.

"How do you know my name? I did not tell it to you," I asked.

He grinned at that, seeming better in spirits.

"I have my ways of finding things out, Barry. It s not very hard. I could get information that you might not even be able to dream up in that pretty little head of yours. Now, I have somewhere to get to. Do behave yourself enough so that I do not have to drag you by your hair again. I hate mistreating such a fine specimen, he says, waving me off.

I blushed, part of me angry as I recollected the boys words. Another part of me thought my name perhaps sounded nice coming from his lips. They could very well be right, but it did not mean that I was not slightly flattered by his compliments. Hemming came in and ushered me out. Reaver gave me a smirk as I left, almost like he was proud of me for what I had done, despite punishing me for it.

_Would I ever understand the man?_

_Perhaps not._

Hemming did not say much, not nearly as amused as Reaver might have been. He helped me clean my hands and face, pulling my hair back into place delicately.

_I did have to appreciate that._

My head ached like mad. So did my back, whenever I moved. But part of me smiled and took pride that I had done it. Perhaps they would leave me alone, now. As I got into bed that night, I knew that I would have fun making Reaver angry, but I would have to figure out how to do it besides my usual tactics.

_I suppose I would have to start playing his little game._


	5. Chapter 4

Some fun smut ahead, finally. :)

**I've been really busy with some critical real life stuff lately. It takes up most of my week and pretty much all of my days. I haven't been writing as much, since I don't have the time or much energy. When I do have those, sometimes I'm too down to do much. I apologize for that, and thank you to all the loyal readers out there that enjoy and stick with it :D

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><p>Dreams came easily that night. Visions of the boy I had beat into the ground, my old slave master, and Reaver. His eyes bore into me like he could read every thought, every emotion, even as I fought for control and rebellion. His perfect lips smirking and the curls of brunette were the only things that happened to soften his eyes. And they did so brilliantly. I reached out and touched his handsome face, running fingertips over eyelids, nose, lips, chin, and then into his silken hair.<p>

There was the sound of thunder, something was on fire. A white wolf of some sort watching in the distance. Reaver pulled me in close, and I realized that I was nude. I could feel some growing embarrassment, but he did not seem to realize or care. Warm skin pressed against more warm skin perfectly as he reached down to press his lips against my neck, nibbling lightly. I groaned softly at the sensation, the dream making it feel raw and extraordinary. The warm haze was gone and we were underwater, struggling with each other, lungs not needing to worry about air.

I took cold, deep breathes in the dark wetness, and pressed my lips to his, hands clinging to him as I entwined my legs around his torso. He kissed back, hot and wanting, a much more expert tongue showing me what pleasures he might bring. Air bubbled up as I moaned into his skin, his clothes soaked, the cloth fluttering around us as well as our hair. He reached down and firmly wrapped his fingers around my erection, and I felt my head rest onto his shoulder in the weightlessness as I cried out to him.

_For some reason, here, I knew exactly who he was._

_What we were._

_We were meant to please each other._

We were swept up in a strong current, the waves washing over in time with my hard length's pulses of rapture at his hand. I counted them with the inch of sanity I seemed to have.

_One._

_Another hungry kiss. _

_Two._

_A sweet peck on the cheek as he pushed away from me. _

_Three._

_ A smirk, reassuring and calming. _

_Four._

_He was fading way into a ray of light. _

_Five._

_Reaver was gone. I was alone, satisfied like I had never been in my life._

Then there was more sunlight.

_Too much sunlight._

I brought my hands up to block it, feeling the heat and light breaking through my fingers. I groaned, then noticed that I was awake, the sun indeed filtering in through the open curtains. A silhouette against the dawn sky stood, the glint of watchful eyes turned towards me. I blinked, clearing my vision of the blurriness.

" Now, now. I felt so horrible about manhandling you yesterday and not being able to show you around properly. I figured that I shall wake you so that you may have breakfast with me. Before you decide that you do not wish to, keep in mind what exquisite foods I may have the kitchen make. How do you like your eggs? Do you even eat eggs?" Reaver asked, more to himself, leaning against the wall and peering over at me.

I glanced around the room. We were alone. It was a very odd and shocking feeling. I was caught completely off guard.

" I don't really know. I haven't had them in years," I said, yawning.

Then I realized that I was talking back normally, and frowned. He stepped out of the sunlight so that I did not have to cover my face to see him. He wore a ruffled black shirt, a couple buttons undone casually with matching black leather gloves. A dark red leather coat with gold and black cuffs covered his shoulders and black leather pants that I noticed curved exactly to his body without being tacky on his legs.

_Shit._

_That's right._

I tried not to flush in anger at the dream.

_How dare I feel so peaceful in some stupid fantasy land with him!_

_What in the hell was going on with that?_

Now that he stood before me, I felt my heart beat faster and faster, teeth clenching down at how relaxed I had been as we had touched.

_It could not be right._

_Because I was not a queer._

_I could not be one._

I was always getting in trouble for sneaking into the girl's rooms late at night for some heavy petting while I had been a slave.

_Reaver was not a bloody girl._

_He was a man._

_A very...erm...But he was a man!_

I found myself sliding my eyes down to the slight curve of the crotch of his pants and mentally smacked myself.

_It was a dream._

_A stupid dream._

_Nothing more._

I felt like making a gagging noise, just for effect to remind myself how horrible it was. He looked at me amusingly as he sat down on the edge of my bed, as if he always did each morning. I tried not to sigh in frustration, keeping my eyes away from him, thinking he would know what was going on in my mind. I made to start getting out of the bed, then noticed a sticky sensation in my smallclothes.

_Great._

_Just what I needed right now._

I did not know if I should just pretend I did not notice. Perhaps he would not either. I did not feel comfortable letting him watch me get dressed, but part of me was thinking that I did not have a choice. I got out of bed, away from him, trying my damndest to keep my crotch out of sight as I reached into my drawer.

" I shall wait for you outside the room, since you need to...get dressed. Do hurry a bit, though, I am rather famished," he said, throwing me a knowing grin before sauntering out of the room just as he had said.

I stood there, speechless, and buried my face in my hands. Hopefully he would forget. I could always make him forget in different ways. Making trouble was sounding better and better. I wiped myself off and put on a clean set of underclothes before pulling on the rest of my clothing. I could feel butterflies tickling my lower stomach, and hoped that I would be able to even eat breakfast while having him sit near me.

I pulled on my boots and tried to think of food, instead. Nice, warm food, whatever it would be. I was still amazed at having clean sheets and a bed to sleep in. I put on my best slouch and walked out of the slave's rooms, seeing him leaning on the wall just outside the door. He nodded and started to walk in front of me, leading me not to the kitchen, but up the stairs. Reaver pushed open one of two double doors at the top, revealing a large and lavish dining room. There was a long, shining wood table covered in red and gold tablecloth, of course. On top of it was various metal dishes. I suppose I had remembered that they kept things more warm or something like that.

He pulled out a chair for me, for which I tried not to blush, slumping down. He chuckled and sat next to me, settling in.

" Now then, let's see if we have anything you like. We have various meats over here, eggs, some porridge, fruits, juices, wines, some pastries as well. Take your pick of whatever you might find to be suitable," Reaver said, winking to me and reaching for some eggs and thick cut meat before piling some fruit onto his plate.

I bit a lip, looking around, trying to keep my eyes from being bigger than my stomach. I settled on some eggs and meat myself, then decided to grab a couple pastries. I had never gotten anything like that unless I had gotten lucky to steal it. It was hard to steal things during the morning, since the market was always so busy.

I bit down into the pastry, feeling myself once again drift away into a blissful state. It was so incredibly good. I had to keep myself from moaning out loud as I felt my hunger being fed. I shoved the rest down my throat and then started on the eggs, not remembering how to eat them very well, but not really caring. Once I had cleared them of my plate, I tried to remember how to cut meat properly. I did not want to ask him for help, but he seemed to see my hesitant look and reached over to do it for me.

" You hold it with the fork like this, then slice with the other hand," he instructed, leaning in close.

I could smell his natural musk and some sort of cologne as well. I suppose it was not unpleasant. I did not want to admit that it actually was pleasant. The heat from his arm brushing up against mine sent prickles down my spine, and I swallowed. He seemed to have sense me shivering a little and smirked at me, still close.

" Are you cold, my little Barry? Do we need to warm you up?" he asked, nodding to one of the maids, who came over and poured me some milky looking tea.

" Don't be shy, it will heat up your bones. I will have to give you your coat as well, after we finish, so that you will not be so chilly," he said, and I breathed a sigh of relief as he did not seem to notice they were not shivers out of cold.

" For being cold, you do flush rather readily, however," he observed, and I clenched my jaw at the comment.

" My face gets red from the windchill in the dry weather," I sighed, trying to cover myself up.

" If you say so," he stated.

I rolled my eyes, but then found them focusing on Reaver's maid. She had light blonde hair in small ringlets that framed her pretty face. Her cheeks were pink and healthy, her lips the color of raspberries. Her eyes seemed to watch me as well, and I gave her a little bit of smirk, making her flush and look away. She fidgeted slightly in her short black dress, legs shifting her weight under the puffed skirt. There was a corset incorporated into her dress, pushing her perky breasts up nicely.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye and ate the rest of my breakfast, thinking I would have to bump into her more often. I caught Reaver give me another knowing smile as he finished his own food. It seemed that he was once again reading my mind as he glanced over at the girl as well.

" That is Hemming's sister, Evette. She is not necessarily off limits, but I will not have her distracting your studies and duties. Nor you hers. I hope that is clear," he said making me wrinkle my nose a bit.

I supposed that meant that it was alright as long as I did not get in trouble? A pretty girl to distract me from this silly madness over my new owner could be nice. He looked over to summon one of the butlers, and I took that as an opportunity to give her a small wink behind Reaver's back. Evette smiled, almost chuckling, and looked away from me again, coming over to clean up the plates. She seemed to dip low before me, showing off a bit of cleavage. I was not going to complain about that.

" Evette, my dear, you are looking lovely today, as always," Reaver commented, smiling perfectly and sweetly at her.

I think he managed to make both her and I blush with the pure radiance he could reveal just by curling his lips. I coughed and smoothed my hair back and she smiled back to him like she had with me.

" Thank you, Master Reaver. I cannot say that you are not looking ravishing this morning, as well," she grinned, and they both seemed to share a look that was almost a little secret.

I tried not to think about what the look meant, but so far she was the opposite of her brother. He was quite reserved, yet not prudish. She was turning out to be rather flirty and outgoing. I was pretty sure that Reaver might have considered her a favorite as well. I doubted he would comment on anyone's looks unless he had intentions or honesty.

That made me think back to how he had called me a "fine specimen" and I rubbed my forehead in frustration.

_I was not a queer._

I kept having to tell myself that. But then again, it was possible to like both the sexes. I had not seen any evidence of Reaver having relations with men, but my gut told me that it did not matter. I still found myself wondering if he was just being nice somehow, and I was taking it too far. I was not used to such kindness, after all. That must be it. I was looking up to him because of how well I was being treated here. Nothing more than that. Reaver took me on a tour of the large house after breakfast, showing me where I would be studying or doing certain activities.

There were many bedrooms throughout the house. I was curious about his, but I decided that it was best not to think about it. There were a couple rooms that he pointed out as having storage for things that were not needed. Almost nothing in the house was off limits, except for upstairs when he was not present. Eventually Hemming took me back to the small study filled with books of various subjects. I knew vaguely how to read, so he started with that, refreshing me before giving me things to read out loud. Then, after I read them, I was to copy down paragraphs and practice my handwriting.

I found myself nearly falling asleep, but I must admit that there were a couple titles in the room that caught my eye. Some odd ones two, involving sex and magic. I would have to poke through some of them when nobody was around. Hemming told me that I would be learning some history of Albion the next day, which may or may not be taught by Reaver. He told me that sometimes urgent appointments came up. He smiled and told me that I had done well, then dismissed me to go deliver a book to Reaver before going to the kitchen to eat.

I had seen the Duke come earlier that day, again. I supposed that there was some sort of boring politics that they would talk about for hours. Things I did not care for or wanted to care for. I opened the door to his office quietly, making sure not to interrupt the meeting. I was too tired to be rebellious, my stomach growling and urging me to go get lunch. The book was written in a language that I could not understand. I guess the writing was sort of pretty in a way. The book was much too fancy, though, like most of the stuff in this house.

I went deeper down the small hall, starting to hear voices. I figured if I put the damn book on a table where he would see it, it would be fine. I sighed and thought about what I might want for lunch, or what would be for lunch. Then I was snapped back into reality when I realized what I was hearing. Tiptoeing into the large room, I could hear labored gasps of breath, muffled a bit. I peered around the corner quietly and I my eyes went a bit wide.

_Oh._

_Wow._

In one of the plush chairs reclined the Duke, hand over his mouth to muffle his groans of bliss, eyes closed tightly as his head rolled back. Trousers and underclothes were in a pile at his bare feet. Reaver was on his knees on the rug, shirt off and pants unbuttoned, lean muscle moving as he gripped the other man's thighs. Reaver's head was between the Duke's legs, working his erect cock like I had never seen even anyone do. He took the whole thing in and pushed out, moist and perfect lips sliding over the hard flesh.

I had to muffle a gasp of surprise, frustration and awe. I had figured Reaver was like this, but I never expected to walk into it. I was shocked as I saw how lovely he looked pleasuring the other man, and how much he seemed to enjoy it. Then the aggravation came as I realized that I was starting to get hard. I clenched my teeth down, trying not to growl in annoyance. I put the book down on the nearby table and moved out of there as fast as I could, face hot and pants tight.

_Damnit._

_Shit._

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

It had to be a joke. Some cruel joke that my body was playing on me. The dream and now this. It was just madness. Something in the water. I refused to let him have the satisfaction of knowing about it. I would not tell anyone of this, no matter how kind they were.

I closed the door quietly and decided that I would have to make a quick stop before lunch to the rooms. I shut the door behind me, locking the quarters, and fell against the door. I quickly undid my belt and unlaced my trousers, reaching down to my aching erection between the layers of cloth and beginning to pump myself madly. I had never been this...horny in a long time. I had never had such a crazy urge to find a spot alone and do this immediately. I closed my eyes and bit down on my lip to keep from making too much noise.

In my head, I tried to picture the lovely Evette, curves and smooth skin. Instead I found my mind drifting back to him. To Reaver. The way he worked his mouth...the look of lust in his eyes...the slim muscle moving under his pale skin. I could not handle it. Was I actually wanting a man? I groaned in frustration and pleasure as I came hard and hot into my hand, thinking instead about his mouth wrapped around my own cock. It ashamed me and excited me at the same time.

_Damn this._

_Damn him._

_Damn everything._

_Damn that Reaver._

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><p>That pesky, pesky, sexy Reaver. ;) Comments? Critique? Enjoyment? Feel free to review!<p> 


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